


Satisfied

by MagicMarker



Series: Figrid Drabbles and One-Shots [13]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: A Winter's Ball (Hamilton), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Hamilton AU, Happy Ending, Kinda, Light Angst, Misunderstandings, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 01:57:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13113528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicMarker/pseuds/MagicMarker
Summary: Anon:Could you maybe write a figrid fic based on Satisfied from Hamilton? Like Fili as Angelica, Kili as Eliza, and Sigrid as Hamilton? I guess it also counts as Kigrid.





	Satisfied

**Author's Note:**

> Well it's been a long 2017, hasn't it? I started this in early September, and the whole rest of the year just evaporated in the blink of an eye. Many thanks and apologies to the Anon who suggested this way back when. I appreciate your patience and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> <3 Happy holidays! <3

Erebor’s ballroom was radiant. Torches sat in sconces along the outer walls, candelabras stood on the floor in between them, chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and delicate glass fixtures reflected all that light a thousand times over until the room was filled. The small amount of smoke rose off the candles all the way to the high ceiling, leaving everything dream-like and beautiful. It was a good thing the ceiling was cut so high, or the temperature from all that flame, _and_ all the guests, would be stifling. 

Even so, Fíli pulled at his collar. The feast celebrating the defeat of Gundabad was the social event of the century, if Dori were to be believed, and as the Mountain’s Most Eligible Bachelor, he found himself stifled in quite a different way. He was the host of tonight’s events, and found his social graces stretched to their limits as he welcomed and made small talk with every female guest that crossed his path. There were only so many “Hi”s and “How are you?”s and “Looking Lovely as Ever”s a person could say before they found themselves blue in the face. Fíli hated all that inane chit-chat, though he’d be lying if he denied a small, vain part of him thrilled under the attention.

When finally he caught himself a break from a particularly affectionate Gondorian grandmother, he hastened across the room to fetch himself a tall glass of wine. He drunk it down greedily, as much in an effort to quench his thirst as to prepare himself for another round of fruitless flirting. A chuckle rose from behind him, hearty and wry.

“Having that much fun then?”

Fíli turned to see a woman standing there with her arms crossed and eyebrow arched, the corner of her painted mouth upturned in a smirk. He had no idea who she was, a thought which vexed him. He took a moment to examine her, to see if he could figure it out before he found himself at a disadvantage. She was skinny, her under-fed frame at odds with the richness of the dress she wore, and her head moved somewhat stiffly as if she wasn’t accustomed to the towering hairstyles and heavy accoutrement that had become the latest fashion. Had she come as someone’s Plus-One, then? Whoever they were, they were quite lucky. The woman was strikingly beautiful in a uniquely unpolished way, and Fíli’s stomach flipped as he struggled to force his mouth to move.

“Chatting the night away is thirsty work,” he finally said, taking the refill from the server who offered. “Hello.”

“Hi,” she answered, thrusting her hand out with a confident smile. “Smashing party, isn’t it?”

He took her hand, shook it once, and replied, “I worked very hard that it should be so.” He glanced around the room as subtly as he could manage, yet he found no one else looking over at the woman. Who was she? 

“And yet,” she prompted, folding her hands in front of her, the smirk still not gone from her lips. When Fíli didn’t take the bait, she took a different angle. “You strike me as a man who is never satisfied.”

Had she no idea he was the prince? He hadn’t been spoken to so frankly since he was a child. It took considerable effort to conceal his surprise when he replied, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. You forget yourself, miss.”

She gave a little shake of her head and told him, “You’re like me. I’m never satisfied.”

“Is that right?” 

“No, I’m never satisfied.” He watched her pluck a wine glass from a passing tray and take not so much a sip as a swallow. Fine. If he had to go first, so be it. 

“My name is Fíli Durinsson.”

“Sigrid Bowman.”

The name was unfamiliar. “Where’s your family from?”

“Unimportant.” 

No it wasn’t. 

“I’m not so much interested in discussing where I’m from as where I’m going,” she continued quickly.

But then she started telling him about her home of Lake Town, how she saw the potential there and wanted to help shape the city into a truly great nation. The glowing embers Fíli had seen in her eyes when they first met flared into passionate fire, her gestures widening enthusiastically until she forgot courtly comportment altogether. Worse than that, she knew what she was talking about. Whenever he questioned her, Sigrid fired right back with a surprisingly educated response. The woman was well-read, that much was clear, and had engaged critically with every piece she found. He might not agree with every conclusion she’d reached, but he was hard-pressed to find any gaping holes in her arguments.

Fíli was sunk.

Was this what it was like to finally find your equal? So often Fíli had been introduced to young women who were beautiful, well-bred and courteous, but had nothing intelligent to say whatsoever. Or worse, they knew they had a brain and they knew how to use it, but they wouldn’t dare admit it in front of him. And humor? Forget it. 

But Sigrid was different. There was no hiding her light from the world, and Fíli felt as if he were seeing clearly for the very first time. His whole body thrummed like he’d been struck by lightning, a thrill running through him every time he made her laugh, or when she would reach out to touch his arm. On the surface Fíli was sure it looked like every other flirtation, every other woman trying to make an impression on him. Yet this was the first woman he’d met who had truly succeeded. 

“And at any rate,” she continued with a wave of her hand, “Lake Town is broke. So if we’re ever going to pull ourselves from the bottom of Esgaroth, there needs to be a serious restructure of finances.”

“Surely the Master would–”

“The Master won’t be so for much longer. He’s corrupt, gluttonous and greedy. It’s only a matter of time before the people rise up and take their future into their own hands. I, for one, am thrilled at the opportunities that would present.”

Fíli couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was she seriously advocating for the overthrow of her government? At a party hosted by a foreign nation? This woman either had unbelievable courage, or an utter lack of wisdom. Yet rather than find it off-putting, he wanted to hear more. 

“I see,” Fíli said. “So you’re the one to lead Lake Town into its bright new future then, are you?” Growing up people had always called Fíli intense, yet here Sigrid was giving him a run for his money. Listening to her was practically a religious experience. 

Sigrid took a sip of wine and looked at him over the lip of her glass. “Perhaps. And perhaps the right allies in the right places can take this from theory into practice.” She winked at him playfully, awaiting his reaction. 

“Perhaps,” he admitted, unable to keep his cheeks from coloring. She was beautiful, and by Mahal she knew it too. The connection he felt to her after so short a time overwhelmed him. Desperate for some small measure of escape, he scanned the room one more time, trying to find out how this fearless, penniless, titleless woman had secured an invitation to the social event of the century. After a moment his eyes fell on Kíli, who was looking in their direction with stars in his eyes. 

Oh.

Sigrid chatted away, seemingly oblivious to the sucker-punch he felt in his gut. Fíli had never denied his brother anything in their entire life. Even as children, Fíli would hand over his last sweet or let Kíli go first on the playground. There was never any competition between them, mostly because Fíli was an utter push-over whenever it came to his little brother. They’d never had eyes for the same person before, but that was due in large part to the fact that Fíli had never been particularly interested in anyone before. It had always been so easy to let Kíli flirt his way through a ballroom, but now…?

It was better this way, probably. Fíli was the eldest, and the gossip in Erebor was insidious. As ridiculous as it sounded, if he didn’t land himself a wife of good breeding the kingdom could destabilize. People would doubt his wisdom, or the fitness of his heir to rule. And as beautiful and intelligent and _fascinating_ Fíli found Sigrid to be, they could never be together. 

Well. Not like that, anyway.

Fíli took her by the elbow, and she looked down at his hand with a puzzled expression. “Where are you taking me?”

“I’m about to change your life.”

“Then by all means,” she replied. “Lead the way.”

They beelined across the ballroom, and Sigrid’s hand felt far too comfortable tucked into Fíli’s elbow like that. He squashed the feeling as soon as it rose; Kíli and Sigrid would be great together. They had the same fiery spirit, the same fierce loyalty, the same wide-eyed romanticism. As the spare, Kíli was under less obligation to wed quite so well, and if Sigrid were able to do even half of what she planned, she’d rise up to be a perfectly fine match for anyone. They would be happy together, and Fíli would be… Well.

“Kíli Durinsson. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Sigrid looked between them as she shook Kíli’s hand. “Durinsson?” she asked, head tilting slightly.

“My brother,” he replied. Kíli and Sigrid smiled at each other, and Fíli felt a tiny piece inside him wither. 

It didn’t matter. Sigrid was playing coy; surely she knew who he and his brother were. She was just after him because of his status. Marrying him would make her queen one day, and Fíli would be a fool to overlook that fact. Or was that just another excuse he was using to avoid making waves? Well, it didn’t matter now. Just as he thought, the two were getting on like a house on fire. Nice going, Fíli. Now she’s _his_ bride. 

She was right. He’d never be satisfied.

“Thank you for your service,” Sigrid was saying. “The tales of your efforts on Raven Hill are thrilling.”

“Well,” Kíli said, glancing between Sigrid and Fíli. “If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it.”

Fíli’s throat grew tight. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He spun on his heel and retreated, heading the long way across the ballroom. Fíli smiled at those who greeted him, but did not stop to chat. He had to get out of this room, away from the heat and the light and the constant noise of people having a far better time than he was. If he told Kíli to lay off, he would. Mahal bless him, but Kíli was always the kinder one of them. Fíli was certain that all he had to do was ask, and his brother would live the rest of his life in silent resignation. He’d say he was fine, he’d be lying, and they both would know it. It would ruin the both of them. 

Halfway to the door, however, he realized his plan to marry Sigrid to Kíli was missing a crucial component: Thorin. Fíli found the King seated in a corner, surrounded by his advisors and a handful of visiting nobility. 

“Fíli!” his voice boomed. “My sister-son! How are you enjoying your evening?”

“Uncle,” Fíli replied, smiling despite himself. “I’m quite well, thank you.” But before Fíli could open his mouth again to continue Thorin broke in, rosy cheeks betraying his slight over-indulgence in the elven wine. 

“We have him to thank for tonight, you know,” Thorin told the assembly. “He’s a brain for strategy, this one, on the battlefield and in the ballroom.”

It was Fíli’s turn to flush slightly. Thorin’s words rang true, though, because on he went with his ridiculous marriage plot. “Uncle, may I have a word?” 

To his credit, Thorin immediately disentangled himself from his throne and entourage, and followed Fíli out into the hall. “What is it, nephew?” 

It was now or never. Fíli could change his mind, say something, _anything_ else, and let the cards fall how they may. Yet if he let Sigrid walk out tonight without Thorin knowing about the potential between her and Kíli, he knew that he would never see her again. It was a hell of a compromise, but as his father had always said, compromise was the way of life for a ruler. And Fíli would put Kíli’s happiness over his own any time. 

Every time. 

 

So he took a deep breath, stood up straight, and began his proposal.

~*~

“I’m sorry, _what?”_

Kíli’s mouth hung agape as he stared at Fíli, bewildered. They stood on opposite sides of Thorin, who sat at the head of a long table at which his royal council often convened. It was a large room, far too large for the three of them, yet Thorin had summoned them here anyway, parchment, ink and quill spread before him.

“I’ve made an offer to Bard of Lake Town,” Thorin repeated as if to a child. “You’re to be married to his eldest, Sigrid.”

“But Fíli–”

“Fíli will find a wife in time. He’s picky, yes, but he’s fine, nephew.”

Fíli was not fine. Though he tried not to show it, the last few weeks of Thorin’s planning and negotiating with Bard for Sigrid’s marriage to Kíli had sent him into a depressive spiral out of which he had no present hope of climbing. Every night in the few quiet moments before sleep took him, he saw her clear blue eyes twinkling as she teased him. If he ever let his mind wander, it always returned to the same image: the two of them, together, in a wonderful what-if world where Fíli hadn’t made his decision so rashly, where they worked everything out despite it all and she ruled next to him as his queen.

“But Uncle, listen, there’s been a great misunderstanding,” Kíli was saying.

If Kíli had cold feet now, he’d get over it by the time the wedding occurred. Just seeing Sigrid on that day, walking towards him in the finest dress Lake Town had to offer, that ever-present smirk on her face as she waited for the perfect moment to make him laugh...

Fíli could have slapped himself. No use fantasizing. The decision has been made. At least Kíli gets that laughter for the rest of his life. And perhaps Fíli will get to share some small part of it. As In-Laws they would see each other often, surely. Would it be utterly scandalous for him to name her to his cabinet when the time came? Perhaps if he–

“What is your hesitation with this, Kíli?” Thorin asked, running his hand through his hair in exasperation. “She doesn’t have a title but we’ve agreed to name her the duchess of something before you wed. Or is this going too fast? Is that it? Perhaps we could arrange a courting period, but you must know your bachelor days are soon behind you.”

“Uncle, _no!”_

Kíli’s exclamation hung in the high ceiling of the nearly-empty council chambers. Fíli looked up from his self-torturing reverie to see that Thorin was getting angry and Kíli was well and truly panicked. He narrowed his eyes in confusion, investigating his brother’s form for any clue as to why the idea of wedding Sigrid bothered Kíli quite so much. 

“If I marry the Lake Town lass, Fíli will _never_ find a wife.” 

“Kíli, that’s not fair,” Fíli placated. With the way Kíli was carrying on, he was liable to smack one of them in the face if he didn’t calm down.

Instead, Kíli slammed the hard wood of the table so hard Thorin’s inkwell nearly toppled. “No, it’s _not_ fair that I should wed the woman _you_ love.” 

“What?” Fíli whispered, the breath punched out of him. 

“What?” Thorin echoed, louder. 

“How did you…?” 

Kíli only looked at Fíli in astonishment, shaking his head slowly. “Oh, brother,” he murmured, voice laden with sadness. Thorin looked on, clearly confused.

Fíli cleared his throat, swallowed, and said, “I saw the look on your face that night, when I was speaking with her. You’ve never looked at a woman like that, not ever. I could tell that Sigrid was special.” “You absolute idiot,” Kíli groaned, head thrown back towards the heavens. “I looked like that because I was happy _for you._ You know who’s never looked at a woman like that? You!” He laughed, and Fíli had never felt so confused. “Sigrid was special because you actually liked her. You were talking with her for an hour before you brought her over to me!”

“An hour?” Surely it had only been five minutes!

“Fíli, is this true?” Thorin asked.

“Do you doubt me, Uncle?” Kíli laughed. “Fíli dropped her at my feet and ran away because he was terrified he was actually having a feeling for once. Your heir is never satisfied, Thorin. He’ll torture himself day in and day out just to prove it!”

Blood rushed in Fíli’s ears. His jaw moved up and down uselessly as his mind raced. “I– I…”

“You were really ready to spend the rest of our lives like this?” 

Of _course_ he was! “The Bowmans are penniless,” Fíli snapped, a hot wave of defensive energy rising through him. “All I’ve heard for my entire adult life is that I better marry well, if I know what’s good for Erebor. So sue me if I’ve been _too picky!”_

“Come now,” Thorin said, but Fíli plowed on.

“No matter how I thought I loved her, I knew I could never have her. Especially not with Kíli feeling the same!”

“But I don’t,” Kíli sighed, pulling a chair out and flopping down into the seat dramatically. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”

“Both of you cut it out!” Thorin rose to his feet, chair skidding thunderously across the floor away from him. “Honestly, between your penchant for self-sacrifice,” he pointed at Fíli, “and _your_ flair for the dramatic,” he pointed at Kíli, “it’s a wonder I ever accomplish anything around here.” He sat back in his chair and tented his fingers in front of him. “A treaty has been struck. Erebor cannot lose her honor so soon after her rebirth, especially not to a foreign commoner. Bard _will_ get the wedding he expects, and the two of you will do your duty and make it happen.” 

He leaned forward and fixed them with the stare he normally reserved for the elf-king Thranduil. “Now. Is that clear?”

~*~

“A toast to the groom!” Bard bellowed, wine goblet outstretched and bobbling precariously.

The assembly raised their glasses and made it halfway through their echo before Thorin stood and added, “To the bride!”

“To the bride,” Fíli answered in chorus with the group, albeit much quieter. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Sigrid. She was so beautiful, just as he had imagined in those moments of weakness when he’d let his mind wander. It was a spring wedding, so fresh wildflowers were woven all through her hair, which she wore loose in the Lake Town fashion. In a nod to the culture about to adopt her, however, gold and jewels were sewn into her dress, an extravagant necklace hung down her chest, and earrings dripped down to her shoulders. 

She was smiling over her goblet of wine, eyes sparkling like the diamonds around her neck as she graciously nodded her acknowledgment of the guests’ best wishes. When she glanced over at him, her smile only widened and Fíli felt a startling swell of emotion. His eyes prickled with threatening tears, and he looked down at his hands in an effort to fend them off. 

“To my brother!” Kíli called, grinning. Fíli lifted his gaze to see him rise from his seat and begin to wander as he talked, positioning himself in the center of the room per usual. “All our life, you’ve always been by my side,” he continued. “So don’t you think for a second that I’ll let that change after tonight!”

Fíli laughed, and the whole room joined him. It was a good thing that Kíli didn’t want this marriage to change things between them. Not after everything they’d been through so far. Things would be different, sure. A third person in the mix was bound to shake things up, and there would be growing pains as Sigrid carved a place for herself under the Mountain. But it could still be good. Fíli could see the promise in Kíli’s eyes: they would both make sure of it. 

“To your union,” Kíli said as he raised his glass, “and the hope that you provide for both our nations.”

Fíli raised his glass in answer, and the whole room cheered and drank. The wine was delicious, but his throat was tight as he swallowed. His brother truly loved him. Kíli had gone above and beyond that day, riding hard all the way to the shores of Esgaroth himself just to meet with Bard and petition for an amendment to the agreement. The Lake Town leader had been wary and confused, but Sigrid just rolled her eyes and laughed. She hadn’t particularly wanted to marry Kíli either, apparently, but was willing to do so if that was what Lake Town required. According to Kíli, she had taken Bard aside for a flurry of whispers, but in the end Bard realized that not only was he in a position to make his daughter the queen of Erebor, but that she actually _wanted_ to do it. So how could he say no?

Sigrid squeezed Fíli’s hand under the table, a little sign that she sensed all that he felt, and understood. He peeked at her out of the corner of his eye, and she gave him a little smile and a pat on his knee. Looking at his bride and seeing all his love reflected in her eyes, Fíli had to admit that for the first time in his life it had actually happened. What he had always wanted had come true, exactly as he had dreamed it, and there was absolutely nothing he would change even if he could.

Meanwhile Kíli had made his way back across the room to their table on the dais. He reached over across all the fine dishes and delicate glassware and clapped a hand on each of their arms. “I mean it, brother. Mahal’s richest blessings to you, and to you as well, my new sister.” 

Then in a voice loud enough for only the three of them to hear, he said, “Look at you two kids. There’s no doubt in my mind you belong together.” There was a soft expression on his face, now he was no longer showing off for the guests. 

“May you always – the both of you – be satisfied.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the fic! Let me know via kudos or comments, or you can find me [here on tumblr](http://cersei-the-truth-bombardier.tumblr.com). Thanks for reading!


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